Saturday, September 6th
Men in hazmat suits are coming to my apartment.
They are showing up at 7 am on Monday and they are kicking me and my cat out.
Home? We will have no home.
I will have to empty our bathroom completely – no shower curtain, no rug, nothing in the medicine cabinet.
The hazmat team will be kicking us out to re-glaze the tub. They will be getting rid of the giant plastic bubble that has appeared on the floor of the tub and covering it with a new layer of what I can only assume is death.
I will have to coax the cat from the linen closet and take him to kitty day care (it’s a thing. Google it). I will have to buy him Crème de la Crème de la Edgar (milk and cookies) to make up for the trauma that he will experience when I get out the cat carrier.
I will be forced to wander, like the Jews in the desert, until the glaze has settled and no longer has the power to kill me.
After hours of shiftless drifting, I will be allowed back, but not without experiencing a few side-effects.
“It’s going to smell,” they’ve warned us. “Really bad. Like, the neighbors may complain.”
So not only will we have to live with a stench, we will also probably have to deal with an increase of the already surprisingly frequent occurrences of what I can only assume is body slamming each other into the walls.
Monday, September 8th 11:30 am
The men in Hazmat suits did not show up. I set my alarm for 7 am, but they never came. I drank 2 cups of coffee while I waited, but it was all for naught.
I had to cancel my kitty daycare appointment.
I unpacked the bags I had packed to take to Starbucks with me (I have a lot of homework to do).
I put all my thinks back in the bathroom.
The men in hazmat suits are coming next Wednesday.
Wednesday, September 17th 12:00 pm
The men in hazmat suits did not show up. Again.
I woke up at 7 am again.
I had to unpack the and repack the bags of homework again.
I had to empty and and the UNEMPTY the bathroom again.
I had to reschedule kitty day care. Again.
We have been assured men in hazmat suits from a different company will come on Friday. Between 9 and 11 am.
Friday, September 19th 2:32 pm.
Men in hazmat suits did not come to our apartment.
It was one man, and all he had was a mask.
He showed up half an hour early, so obviously we were all still in bed.We got up as fast as we could and began scrambling.
I grabbed the cat put him in his carrier before he could hide under my bed.
As the cat freaked out we had the following conversation with the mask man:
Mask Man: So are you guy going to stay here or go somewhere, because if you leave, I’ll have to go get a key from the front office.
Me: We were told we had to leave and we had to take the cat with us.
Mask Man: No. You guys can stay here, that’s fine. People stay in the apartment all the time. The cat DEFINITELY… Should stay in that bedroom.
*I begin moving the cats food and litter box into my roommate’s bedroom so I can get the cat out of the crate*
Roommate: Oh wow. We were told that if we were in the apartment while you did it it would be a detriment to our health.
Mask Man: Naw. I’ve been doing kitchen counters with someone playing video games right over there. I just have a tent I can put up.
Roommate: Well I guess we will just stay here in my room then.
The kitty daycare people will never take me seriously after this.
We went to waffle house and then hung out in my roommates room.
While we were gone the mask man tucked the shower curtain into the towel rack and called it a day. Apparently the bathroom did not need to be completely empty.
I unpacked my bags a final time and did homework on my roommates bed while she was at work.
Our apartment smelled like spray paint, but dissipated quickly.
Everything is lies.
Things in the Titanic are shaping up.
I did a series of moving horror stories last month and had to bring it back to tell you guys about this. I think it is going to be quite the year here, Internet. Quite. The. Year.